


miles of nowhere

by vsyubs



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Fingerfucking, Hitchhiking, M/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Shotgunning, Slice of Life, Threesome - M/M/M, in which the tags are way more exciting than it actually is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 16:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11810016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vsyubs/pseuds/vsyubs
Summary: “You see this?” Mingyu cries, loud voice cutting through the vast dark blue. “This is here. This is home.” A grin on his lips, in his eyes, like there’s no tomorrow or yesterday. “This is us.”





	miles of nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> POV switches imminent  
> heavily unedited  
> incredibly spur of the moment

Let it be known that Jeon Wonwoo does not know where he is going. The door of the pale green van slams dully shut behind him.

“This is as far as I’ll be willing,” he says. He, the driver, an old man with slate-gray eyes and bushy black brows. “Nothing personal, kid.”

Wonwoo nods mutely.

The man tugs his cap further down his head. “People drive by this part all the time. You’ll find someone.”

Wonwoo nods again. 

The driver rolls away, kicking up ochre dust everywhere. Wonwoo coughs and sputters and tries not to get it in his nose and eyes. 

Well, that’s the end of that.

Wonwoo scans the expanse of yellow-brown grass in front of him. They look golden against the pewter road. A streak of dirt runs along his nose when he rubs it; he rubs again and it’s gone. The pressure on his shoulders from his backpack is driving him a little nuts. 

Maybe he should’ve listened to his gut when it told him that going on a “mental reawakening trip”, as his friend Soonyoung put it, was stupid. Okay, that’s a little harsh. It’s not stupid. Soonyoung talked some sense, however embellished. Like a good friend and coworker, he didn’t want Wonwoo to crash and burn being hung up on his recent break up, and Wonwoo appreciates that he cares. No one else really did. 

The third day was the worst. Wonwoo was head-deep in self-pity and was doing whatever he could to keep himself as comfortably numb as possible in the most uncomfortable ways. That day, at three in the afternoon, Soonyoung forced himself into his apartment through the window, snatched his half-finished bottle of whiskey away from him, smacked his face and told him that this isn’t him. 

Wonwoo agreed. That was by far the most impulsive thing he’d ever done in his life. 

But that was three weeks ago – old news, really. He’s been clean since. He’s not a self-destructive guy. But maybe that’s only because he’s never had a reason to. So maybe the breakup gave him a sad, misleading little nudge that tipped him over. 

So maybe, maybe, maybe. 

“A trip,” Soonyoung had said, sat atop Wonwoo’s desk in the office with a bright glint in his eyes. It was Tuesday or Wednesday or something. “One of those soul-cleansing things.”

Wonwoo frowned at the sound of that, pointlessly restacking his papers. “ _Soul-cleansing_?”

“Sure,” Soonyoung said. “A mental reawakening of sorts.”

“Will you come with me on this mental reawakening of sorts?”

Soonyoung had laughed and patted his shoulder. “Hell no.”

Wonwoo grimaces at the thirsty ground below him. He wants to sit down so badly. There’s little rocks in his shoes and they’re poking the living daylights out of his soles but he isn’t inclined to take his shoes off and shake them off because doing that requires a degree of cleanliness and he doesn’t feel like dirtying his socks and everything – is so hard. His phone died hours ago and there are currently zero buildings surrounding him so there’s no point in trying. 

So, no, not stupid. Just highly impractical. 

Wonwoo leans against the rusty, useless bus stop and closes his eyes. He can smell the old metal of it. He decides to stay put, give the driver the benefit of the doubt. He can’t be _that_ much of a sadist, right?

It must’ve been an hour or so until he sees something. 

Wonwoo straightens up and looks at the far end of the road, shielding his eyes from the sun’s glare with his hand. 

In the distance, a sparkle of cherry red. As it comes closer, he sees that it is a car. He sticks a thumb out. The car slows. Wheels crunch over parched soil. His heart lurches in relief. He steps up to the window.

The window sinks down.

  


  


“So you're, like, a traveller?”

One of the guys – there’s two of them. The one driving, Mingyu, drop-dead good looks and a voice that never seems to lose its spark, meets his gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Uh, sure,” Wonwoo says.

“Are you – and don’t take any offense to this – are you a hippie?” 

“What kind of question is that?” the other one, deceivingly willowy and pretty, cuts in from the passenger seat. “Sorry about this one,” he says to Wonwoo. Minghao, he’s called. There’s snark in his softness, hardness in his thin, toned arms. Wonwoo knows his type. 

Mingyu shakes his head. “Shut the fuck up, Hao.” 

“You first, Gyu.” 

“...Touché.” 

Minghao mimics Mingyu’s _touché_ in a high-pitched voice, and Mingyu reaches over to pinch his nipple. He lets out a surprised noise, hands flying belatedly over his front. “Fuck you.”

“What, right now?” 

“Get out of this car,” Minghao says flatly, but Mingyu’s got a satisfied grin in his eyes. Minghao shakes his head and turns in his seat to face Wonwoo. “Wonwoo, right?”

Wonwoo nods once. Minghao’s nose is rounder than the rest of him. 

“Where were you headed?”

_I don’t know. Anywhere. I’m lost. I wanna go home. I wanna crawl out of my own skin. Where is home?_

Wonwoo leans back in his seat. “Wherever you guys are going, I guess.”

Minghao turns his lips upwards, ever so slightly. He faces forwards once more.

“Sweet,” Mingyu says. 

  


  


They’re at a rest stop a few hours later, in the car with the windows down waiting for Mingyu to stock up on snacks and things, with the sun halfway down the sky, kissing its neck gold, when Wonwoo says it.

“My girlfriend broke up with me.” 

A reality kick. A crack in the surface.

Minghao looks at him carefully, silent for a few seconds. “Yeah?”

Wonwoo runs a hand through his hair. “I stuck around. She didn’t want to.” He doesn’t know why he said that. It’s Minghao’s quiet, unintentional comfort, he thinks. Something about him. Something like that. “So she ended it.”

Minghao doesn’t turn the music down so they can “talk”. He looks away nodding, like he gets it. He probably does. 

“It’s been three weeks.” Wonwoo smiles brokenly to himself. “You ever wanna kick yourself for being stupid?”

“Don’t do that,” Minghao says, graceful hand atop his lap. He glances at Wonwoo, gold in his irises from the setting sun, and tells him, voice hard and calm all at once, “You’re not stupid.”

Wonwoo itches to believe. Itches to reach out. 

  


  


The sky’s grapefruit pink, spotty with clouds. There’s music softly playing, left quieter so Wonwoo can nap. Minghao’s taking the wheel. The late afternoon sun’s behind them, watching. Day three of whatever this is. 

“I’m bored.”

In the rearview mirror, Mingyu’s pouting with his eyes out the window, chin resting against his palm and hair pushed back haphazard. Wonwoo’s drooped slackjawed on his left shoulder. Minghao looks back at the long stretching road in front of him. “Sleep it off,” he says.

Mingyu lifts his shoulder, bumping Wonwoo off of him, and scoots forward until he’s got his hands on the driver’s seat. Wonwoo startles awake, but barely; he smacks his lips and goes back to sleep.

“Not _that_ kind of bored,” Mingyu says. Voice creamy against Minghao’s earlobe. Hands finding Minghao’s shoulders. 

“I’m driving,” Minghao says, but cranes his neck anyway. Mingyu’s mouth latches onto the skin there as thanks. Moving to kiss the shadow below his ear, Mingyu whispers, “Pull over.” 

“Mingyu.”

Mingyu easily reaches over and cups the front of his jeans. His stomach dips warmly. “Come on.”

  


  


“I could _hear_ you guys, you know.” 

Mingyu looks up from slow-roasting his marshmallow with a lighter. Wonwoo’s walking over after pissing in some bushes because he just couldn’t wait til they got to a rest stop. His hair’s still jutting up from where it’s been slept on. Mingyu’s gaze drops to his unbuttoned jeans, the quiet peek of his boxers over the jut of his hipbones. He grins, looking back at his face. “Lonely?” 

Wonwoo lets out a flat laugh as he pulls up one of the camping chairs closer to him and sits in it. Mingyu coos. 

“Could’ve joined us,” Minghao says, like it’s obvious. He’s next to Mingyu in another camping chair, peeling an orange.

Wonwoo snorts, snagging the bag of marshmallows resting on Mingyu’s lap and helping himself. “Isn’t there a rule for that?” He bites off half of a marshmallow, holding no one’s gaze. “For a stranger to fuck two people in a relationship?” 

Mingyu eats his marshmallow. “You’re hardly a stranger to us.” The sweetness of it melting on his tongue. 

  


  


Wonwoo’s good with his fingers. Like, unfairly good. Mingyu is almost mad.

“Ah –” He whines, pushing down into Wonwoo, teeth sinking into his lower lip when Wonwoo grazes that spot. “Oh you’re real good,” he slurs. He shivers, going putty under Minghao’s mouth on his nipples. He kind of wishes it was around his dick but he’s not complaining. His neck falls backwards, eyes squeezing shut as Minghao trails kisses along his jaw, hand snaking its way down to his boxers all wet and tented.

“Noisy,” Wonwoo mutters. 

Mingyu opens his eyes, breathing shallow. The motel ceiling’s kind of moldy in some places. “I kn-know.” He groans weakly. Minghao’s squeezing, reaching under. His dick, out of his boxers, twitches in Minghao’s grip, precome rolling down the shaft. Minghao starts a slow rhythm. “Fuck,” he sighs. He sees white stars blooming on Wonwoo’s face when he looks at him with heavy lids. “Wanna suck you off so bad.” 

Wonwoo levels his gaze. He grazes his spot again, wet and wet and wet. “That’s all?”

Mingyu moans, hips stuttering when he feels the heat of Minghao’s mouth slowly take him in. Wonwoo’s eyes are burning him; his fingers are burning his insides. He’s going dizzy. He sucks up drool through his teeth. “No,” he breathes. Not enough. Not even close.

Wonwoo does something with those fingers. His dick twitches again, and he knows that’s the back of Minghao’s throat he just hit, and he makes a broken noise, eyes rolling helplessly to the back of his head. “Tell me.” Wonwoo’s voice is pitched with a gentle kind of grit.

Eight-thirty p.m surrounded by heat and moist motel air, Mingyu’s vision swims. “You should – _ngh_ – show me.”

The glint in Wonwoo’s dark gaze bracketing his mind, and everything – _everything_ drowning him whole. 

  


  


When Mingyu gets the telescope out, Wonwoo can practically see the excitement radiating off of him. They’re on the field at the back of the motel because there’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight passing through. Minghao brings out the six pack and settles into the chair next to Wonwoo as Mingyu sets up the telescope a little further away. 

“He’s so excited,” Minghao says. Wonwoo can barely see him in the dimness, but he can tell he's smiling despite his mocking tone. 

“Tell me about it.” 

In the distance, Mingyu lets out a scream. Immediately, Minghao rises from his seat.

“What is it?” Minghao calls out. He takes a flashlight from his pocket and shines it over towards Mingyu. “Gyu, what happened?” 

“There’s grasshoppers!” Mingyu yells, a desperate edge cracking his voice. “What the fuck are they doing here!”

Minghao frowns. “Grasshoppers…?” 

“Are you an idiot?” Wonwoo calls out. Mingyu stops madly dusting himself off, turns to Wonwoo, and flips him the bird. Minghao bursts out laughing and falls back into his chair. Wonwoo grins, glancing at him.

“You suck. They were huge. I got scared.” Mingyu trudges back on over to them, pouting. He looks at the two of them, at the chair between them, then plops himself onto Minghao’s lap without warning, accidentally sitting on his dick. Minghao cries out. 

“What? What?” Mingyu stands halfway up, alarmed. “Is it another grasshopper?”

“No, just my dick you sat on.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” Mingyu tentatively sits back down again, scooting slightly further forwards this time. He sends Minghao a look over his shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like that, though?” 

This time Minghao pushes him off. Sighing, Mingyu rolls over onto his back, putting a hand behind his head. He lets out an _ooh_ , staring up at the sky.

“ _That’s_ pretty,” he says. He stretches his arm out, lets it flop onto the grass. “Hey, come down here.”

Minghao looks like he’s about to complain but lies down next to Mingyu, head resting on Mingyu’s outstretched arm.

“Wonwoo, c’mere.” 

“I’m not –”

“You are,” Mingyu insists. He pleads with his eyes, face upside down and gorgeous. “C’mon.” 

Wonwoo can’t refuse that. He sidles up to him, his warmth and sturdiness, and sinks into it.

“You see this?” Mingyu cries, loud voice cutting through the vast dark blue. Minghao smacks his chest but he is undeterred. “This is here. This is home.” A grin on his lips, in his eyes, like there’s no tomorrow or yesterday. “This is us.”

  


  


“You make me feel like a sunset.”

Wonwoo gives Mingyu a funny look as he rolls a joint. From the bed, Minghao stares at the back of his head. It’s a little past six. Two empty pizza boxes lay on the floor next to three opened cans of beer.

“Who’re you talking to?” Wonwoo asks. 

Mingyu shrugs. “Either of you. Both.” 

Wonwoo makes a face, going back to the joint. 

“Disgusting,” Minghao says.

Seated on the worn dark orange carpet with his back against the side of the bed, Mingyu reaches up and blindly searches for Minghao’s hand to hold. His fingers slip in between Minghao’s when he finds it, warm. Another day, another motel. This one is way cleaner and the old lady at the front desk gave each of them a mint when they arrived a few hours ago.

“Why didn’t we fuck here instead of that dingy place?” Minghao wonders aloud.

“We can still do that.” Mingyu looks up at him, sweetly coy.

Minghao rolls his eyes and smothers his face with his palm. “Obviously.” He retracts it when Mingyu gives it a lick. 

Wonwoo finishes up. He slips the joint between his lips and lights it before taking a deep drag. He leans back on his palm, smoke poised midair as he exhales. His profile, backlit by the bursting orange sun outside. He takes another smaller drag, lips pretty around it. “Here.” Wonwoo offers it to Mingyu. Minghao watches smoke come out of his mouth, his fingers angled in all the right ways. “Don’t hog.” 

Mingyu takes it, making a pleased noise. 

“Don’t hog,” Minghao whispers into his ear.

Mingyu gives Minghao a look and blows smoke in his face.

Minghao coughs, but moves closer so their foreheads are touching. A grin blooms on Mingyu’s face. He tilts his head away to inhale some more, cupping Minghao's jaw with his free hand.

Holding the smoke, he leans in. Minghao follows, lids drooping, mouth parting. He takes it all in. On the other end, Wonwoo’s silent. Minghao wonders if he’s liking it. He reaches up to thread his fingers through Mingyu’s hair, scratching lightly at the back of his neck. Mingyu breathes out laughter. Minghao inhales that, too.

Minghao closes the distance between their lips, and they kiss, languid and a little dry. Minghao flicks his gaze over to Wonwoo as he parts his mouth to let Mingyu's tongue in.

They pull apart eventually, Mingyu letting out an “Oh,” at the joint still burning between his fingers. He offers it to Wonwoo with a smile. "There you go."

Wonwoo crawls forward and takes the joint out of Mingyu’s hand; with the other he tugs at Mingyu's chin, pulling him closer. He breathes in smoke, holds it, and leans in. Mingyu opens up. Minghao thinks of the sharp lines of Wonwoo’s mouth. 

  


  


The sharp lines of Wonwoo’s mouth – so gentle it’s almost torture. Minghao’s hooked. 

It’s lazy backseat fucking and Minghao’s heady with Wonwoo’s tongue in his mouth, Mingyu’s wandering lips and hands. Everything drips. Their hearts pound slowly from red wine and each other. They’ve said goodbye to the old lady at the motel. 

Minghao pulls away from Wonwoo just enough to form words. “Hey,” he says, combing through Wonwoo’s hair. 

Wonwoo breathes deep. “Hey yourself.”

Minghao kisses the corner of Wonwoo’s mouth, breath hitching when Mingyu thumbs his slit just the way he likes it. “I hope you stick around.”

There’s a few more miles of nowhere to go. They’ve got all the time in the world.

Wonwoo kisses him back. 

**Author's Note:**

> forgive me [bows deeply] i haven't written anything smutty in so damn long and i have never written anything poly.. but i've been all clogged up with ideas and nothing concrete lately and then all of a sudden this? just? came out? in the midst of everything? so i ran with it.
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this :") as always - even though i don't say it a lot - thank you for reading <3


End file.
